


If the Galaxy Was Simple

by icandrawamoth



Series: New Jedha City Trilogy [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angry Bodhi Rook, Angst, Arguing, Campfires, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Jedha, POV Bodhi Rook, Post-Rogue One, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Refugees, Storytelling, lowkey proselytizing for the Rebellion, the Empire's revisionist history, volunteering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Bodhi tells the refugees what really happened to Jedha. Some aren't ready to listen; some are.





	If the Galaxy Was Simple

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of a trilogy, so you'll want to read [part one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9249038) first.

It's the end of another long day in the Jedha City refugee camp. As the sun starts to dip, sending long lines of shadow across the valley floor, Bodhi stands back from the shelter he's been working on and wipes sweat from his brow. The little shack isn't pretty – it only has three walls and a sorry excuse for a roof right now – but it'll hold a handful of people and shelter them through the Jedhan night.

“Bodhi!” Bodhi turns to see Kinn Truden, the camp's manager, waving a hand at him, her other occupied by a bowl. “Dinner!”

Bodhi approaches her, putting his borrowed tools back into their roll. He's been so busy he hadn't even realized how hungry he was. “I've told you don't need to feed me, Kinn. I have my own supplies on my ship. If anything, I should be helping your people.”

Kinn rolls her eyes, an exaggerated move that tilts her whole head, her chin-length red hair swinging. “You're helping us; we're helping you.” She snatches the tool roll away from him and shoves the bowl into his hands. “Eat. No spoon again today, though.”

“Not a problem.” Tableware is just one of many things they don't have nearly enough of to go around to all the refugees. He tilts the bowl to his lips and takes a slurp. The broth is hot and thick, welcomingly bracing for the coming coolness of night. “Your recipe?”

Kinn laughs and shakes her head. “I may be able to boss people around with the best of them, but I'm no cook. It was Jana.”

“I should have known.”

Kinn had already had the organization of the camp well underway by the time Bodhi had arrived, seeking to help any possible survivors, still mired in his own grief over the loss of his home and overwhelmed by the guilt that it had happened because of him. Not that he's told anyone here that. They all still believe the Empire's party line that the Holy City's destruction had been the result of a mining accident. The very idea incenses Bodhi. Either way, it was the Empire's fault, and they haven't exactly been quick to send any help. Not that he expected it.

Kinn returns the tools to their owner as they pass, a Tognath named Turo who is the camp's master builder. Kinn had managed to organize many of the arriving refugees into jobs they were skilled, or at least competent through quick teaching, at. Medics, cooks, builders – like Bodhi – the rough little tent city seemed to run remarkably well.

“Come sit with me,” she urges him as they walk. “I finally heard back from the Imperials today.”

Bodhi nearly chokes on a mouthful of soup. “You did?”

Kinn nods gravely. “I'll tell everyone when we get there, but I'll say now it wasn't good news.”

Bodhi feels an odd sense of foreboding, even though he hadn't exactly expected good news. This is the Empire after all.

When they arrive at Kinn's campsite, a small tent just outside the camp proper, near their makeshift landing field, there are already half a dozen other people gathered around her campfire. Turo, Jana, and a few others who have risen to the top to form a sort of makeshift council.

They greet Kinn and Bodhi as they join the circle, and their gazes immediately fall on the woman. Clearly, they know to expect an announcement.

“As you know,” she says without any foreword. “I finally got a message from the Empire in response to the cries for help we've been sending for nearly a week now.” Bodhi shares the bitterness he hears in her voice. “They're not coming.”

There's distressed murmuring from around the circle. Bodhi squeezes his eyes closed, wondering why he feels disappointment.

Kinn goes on, voice steely. “And they're not sending any supplies either. _Our resources are needed elsewhere_ ,” she parrots bitingly. “The Rebels recently attacked and destroyed a records facility, a research station specializing in renewable energy, and an entire orbital facility, and the Imperials need everyone they have to pick up the pieces and replace the _over a million people_ who were killed. And the Rebels say they want to help us.” She snorts derisively, and is instantly met with cries of agreement and disgust at the damage she's recounted.

Bodhi's eyes snap open, a different kind of rage building inside of him. Of course the Empire is claiming the Death Star as some kind of peaceful facility and blaming the destruction it brought on itself in an attempt to stop them on the Rebels, continuing its mission to paint them as a violent terrorist organization.

“That's not true.” The words are out of his mouth before he can think them through.

The campfire circles goes absolutely silent, all of them staring at him and his red face.

“What isn't true?” Kinn asks, puzzled.

Oh, gods. Bodhi takes a deep breath; there's no going back now. “What the Empire told you about those facilities, particularly the orbital one.”

Murmurs flurry around the circle, the assembled looking at each other curiously, then back to him.

“Go on,” Kinn prompts, her look impenetrable.

“The 'orbital facility,' as they called it, was a weapon. A _planet killer_. You wondered what happened to Alderaan? That's it. There was a traitor who managed to get word to the Rebellion, including a weakness he installed to make it vulnerable to attack. They destroyed it to keep the Empire from using it on any other worlds.”

The beings circling the campfire stares, wide eyes fixed on him as if they can't look away.

“Why should we believe you?” Jana asks, her green lekku trembling with an emotion Bodhi can't quite read. Fear? Anger? “Why should we believe the word of some random guy against what the government tells us?”

Bodhi grits his teeth. When he came here, he never thought he'd be defending the Rebellion single-handedly. “Why would the Rebellion destroy a peaceful science facility? Or a records installment? It was _Empire_ who destroyed both of them, using that death machine of theirs, to try and keep us from getting the plans!”

“Us?”

Bodhi flinches. Of course Kinn managed to pick up on that despite everything.

“Yes, us. I was there.”

“You're a Rebel.” From Turo, a man who's come to be a friend, the words thrown as an accusation hurt.

“Yeah.” There's no use in trying to hide it; he's made it pretty clear by now. “I am. So, sure, I may be a little biased as to how good we are, but I'm asking you to trust me. The Empire is bad. They've hurt people – even before this – you have to know that. How about they way they were stripping the kyber mines here before the supposed 'mining disaster'? They using them to power the weapon.”

Kinn frowns, seeming to have put something together. “If they lied about what happened to the city, what's your version?”

“The truth, you mean?” Bodhi responds hotly. While he understands their instinct to disbelieve, he's getting a little tired of being called a liar. “I was here, too. When it happened.”

Turo scoffs. “If you were here, you would've been dead like everyone else.”

“Everyone else?” Bodhi glances pointedly to the camp, where even from here they can see similar circles of people eating around their campfires or wandering the cramped walkways between shelters.

Turo glares. “You know what I mean, Rebel.”

Bodhi jumps to his feet. “That's it! I-”

“Easy, Bodhi.” Kinn grabs his arm before he can storm off. “It's getting late, and we're all stressed. Let's talk more tomorrow, all right?”

It takes several long moments before the rest of the council agrees, says their goodnights, and starts to leave. More than a few pointed and questioning looks are sent Bodhi's way. He whirls to return for the night to the Rogue One U-wing he flew in on, cursing the fact that he won't be alone because he's offered every spare inch of space to a dozen refugees who don't have shelters yet.

But Kinn, still holding onto his arm, tugs him back down. “Not you. I want to know what you're talking about.”

Frustrated, Bodhi flops down onto a crate and scrapes his boots across the dirt. “Are you actually going to believe me?”

“I'm going to be open-minded,” Kinn says, surprisingly serene. “If you've been listening yourself, I'm not exactly the fondest of the Empire right now either. So, tell me. What do you mean you were here?”

Bodhi sighs and looks up at her, the images of what he's about to explain still so clear in his mind. “The traitor on the Death Star – that's what they called the weapon – he had an accomplice. That's how he got the information out. Me.” He spreads his arms awkwardly to indicate himself. “I was a cargo pilot for the Empire, carrying kyber crystals from Jedha to the research facility. I defected and came here.”

Kinn nods, clearly thinking hard about everything he's saying, really listening. “Why did you come back?”

“The inside man had ties with a Rebel group here, and he sent me to meet with an old friend.” Bodhi squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment, willing down the pain and guilt, the spectral image of Jedha City as nothing more than cloud of debris. “The Empire found out and came after me. They used the weapon to destroy the city in order to kill me, so no one would be able to destroy their death machine. It's my fault.” The last part slips out unbidden, and he bites his tongue.

Kinn's eyes are wide as she takes in the story, one hand clenched on Bodhi's sleeve and the other in her lap. He wonders if she even heard the last part and what she'll think of him if she did. Will she blame him? Will they all blame him, like he blames himself?

“If what you say is true,” she says finally, voice shaking just a little, “it can't actually be your fault. If they were that desperate to keep the information out of the Rebellion's hands, they would've killed anyone, any place, to do so. Right?”

“I suppose so.” It hardly makes him feel better.

“But if you were here, why aren't you dead?” Kinn asks. “I mean, not that I'd want you to be. You know.”

Bodhi manages a tiny smile at the sudden awkwardness. “The Rebellion had heard about my defection, too, and sent a team looking for me and that same contact. They found us just before the Empire attacked. We barely made it out.”

“Then what?”

“We went back to extract our inside man. But one of the Rebel generals didn't think that was possible and that the Empire keeping him would be too dangerous and ordered an attack on the facility.” Bodhi looks at his hands. “So, yeah, Eadu was us. The Rebellion, I mean. War sucks. There are atrocities on both sides.”

“I can understand that,” Kinn says softly. “In war, nobody is right. Everyone loses.”

Bodhi nods “It's just a matter of trying to be less wrong than your enemy, I suppose.”

Kinn nods thoughtfully. “So, the Death Star?” she prompts.

“I didn't actually have the plans,” Bodhi explains. “We had to go to the records facility to get them.” Images of Scarif flash before his eyes, and he suddenly desperately needs her to understand. “Kinn, the Empire destroyed _it's own_ installation, killed _it's own_ people, to keep us from getting their plans. What kind of government does that?”

“Not a good one,” she answers somberly.

“No. So, we did manage to get them. A lot of Rebels gave their lives, but my team made it out. We got the plans to the Rebellion, the message about the weakness, and a few days later, our guys managed to destroy it. Now I'm here.” He spreads his arms again, then lowers them slowly to his lap. He feels strangely light having told the story.

Kinn is squinting at him. “Why _are_ you here?” she asks. “When you landed, you told me you just wanted to help your people.”

“That's part of it,” Bodhi admits. Why not lay it all on the table, seeing as he's already basically told her his life story? “Like I said, the Empire wouldn't have destroyed the city if I hadn't been here.”

“And like _I_ said, they would've just found another nasty way to keep the information from getting out,” Kinn says forcefully.

Bodhi sighs, trailing his fingers through the sand in an attempt to keep from looking at her. “It's not that easy,” he murmurs. “Guilt doesn't exactly listen to logic.”

“Bodhi.”

He makes himself look up at the tone, and sees Kinn's sharp green eyes looking at him with an expression that seems oddly like sympathy. “I believe you.”

His breath catches. “You do?”

She nods. “Some of the little details may be off, some misunderstandings might have happened, but I definitely don't think you made all this up.”

Bodhi lets out a dramatic sigh. “Well, _that's_ a relief.”

Kinn actually smiles. “This is probably a ridiculous question, but can I meet your fellow Rebels? I'm interested in hearing what they have to say.”

Bodhi bites his lip, serious again. “I don't know if that's a good idea. I'd have to talk to them.”

“Do that.” Kinn throws another hunk of wood on the fire, a useless trimmed end from one of the shelters. “Are they going to come here sometime? Or did they just send you?” A thought seems to occur to her. “Isn't one of their self-proclaimed missions to help the people?”

“It is. Um, after the whole Death Star thing, they're a little busy, too, but I'm sure they'll come when they can.”

Kinn frowns. “They don't sound so different from the Empire when you say that.”

“They have a much smaller force,” Bodhi is quick to explain. “And they're trying to help on so many different fronts. I'll contact them and see what I can do, okay? Okay? Please don't judge them before you really know them?”

Kinn sighs. “I'll try.”

“Good. Thank you.”

They go quiet for awhile, merely staring into the fire together.

“Don't blame yourself,” Kinn says finally, looking at Bodhi again. “I know talking about people's lives as a net gain is a crass, but from what you said, even if we lost Jedha City, you helped save so many more people by doing your part to destroy that thing. Right?”

Bodhi considers it. “I suppose so.”

“You did,” Kinn repeats. “And you're here now. That's important. You realize that? The Empire isn't here. The Rebellion isn't here. _You_ are. Even if it's not truly your fault, you're atoning, and that's good. These people need help, and you're giving it. One person can make a difference. And regardless of your alignment in the grand scheme of things, that's what counts.”

Bodhi smiles. “Thank you. Have you ever considered becoming a motivational speaker?”

Kinn rolls her eyes. “Anyway. What are we going to tell the rest of the council?”

“Oh, boy.” Bodhi bites his lip. “They're your people. What do you think?”

“Our people,” Kinn corrects him, worrying her own lip as she considers the question. “I'm not sure what would be best. As much of the truth as we can, I think. Maybe tone down how much you were involved personally, except where it's needed for credibility.”

“So, everywhere?”

Kinn sighs. “You saw Turo's reaction when you mentioned the Rebels. And he's not the only one. They're not all going to be as easy to convince as me, Bodhi.”

“I know. If only the galaxy was that simple.”

Kinn smiles wistfully. “If only.”


End file.
